


Mall Rats

by RenaRoo



Series: Future Titans [3]
Category: Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 08:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4599129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mia is excited about shopping and Chris comes along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mall Rats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ephemeraltea (temporarily_obsessed)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporarily_obsessed/gifts).



> Prompt: ( ephemeraltea ) prompt, if you find yourself interested, my dearest: Mia and Chris Kent having a shopping day. They discuss crushes! There’s cinnabon! and sibling bonding, of course..
> 
> A/N: I need more Super Family in my diet, hot dang. I love these characters so much and I have so many ideas on how their dynamics would work considering the canon relationships too often are woefully lacking. Like this. Mia and Chris need and deserve SOOO much more from canon. Gosh. I love these guys so much. Thanks so much for this prompt, Tea!
> 
> And for those interested, yes I’m writing this as part of my Future Titans AU

It was the kind of string of days after a series of weeks in what was turning out to be a rather rotten year hat had Chris sneaking home late on a Friday night and slipping between his covers. He needed to avoid the cheerful optimism and usual hard knocks that his parents would give him in advice after another disappointing week at the University of Metropolis and just exist as another post-teen rotting in existential crisis.

At least the latter part he could accurately pin on the added bonus of being a young superhero.

Melting into his sheets, Chris readied himself for a good rest and hoped that should Mama Lois have the inclination to check his room (as she usually seemed to rather perceptively), she’d be able to tell it wasn’t something he wanted to be bothered about just yet.

It got him through the night and most of the morning, but his kid sister was, at best, not nearly as perceptive as their parents.

Mia burst through the door and looked around Chris’ room -- flying from one side to the other in a mad dash. Chris only lied in bed like a slug, hoping his sister would continue to not see him.

But instead she stopped and hovered just over his bed.

When Chris gave up the act and dared to open an eye, he was met by her full leer.

“What are you doing!?” she demanded. “You’re supposed to be at school!”

“It’s Saturday,” he reminded her.

“You didn’t eat dinner last night.”

“I was in New York,” he explained before pulling he covers over his head. “Why’re you in my room?”

“Scarves.”

Chris sighed before pulling the blankets back to his chin and looked at her. “Mia, I don’t have any scarves.”

The one half of the Kent twins tossed her head to the side, glossy red lips in a pout. “You don’t, but I do, and I can’t find them in my room, so...” she began, at a more browsing pace, flying about Chris’ space again. “I figured I probably threw a few in here.”

Sighing, Chris laid out on his back and scanned the room himself. “On the corner of the bookshelf.”

“Ha! Thank you!” she preened before grabbing the bright red scarf. She wrapped it around her neck and dropped down to the ground, hands on her hips. “What do you think? Mall approved?”

Sitting up and hugging his knees, Chris tossed his head to the side. “Um. Maybe. I don’t think Dad would like that blouse,” he noted with a raise of his brows. “Did... Does he know you _own_ a shirt like that?”

“I’m cute!” she defended, pulling her coat together more and turning slightly from Chris.

“You’re also _twelve_ ,” he reminded her. “Who’s going with you to the mall?”

“Me, myself, and I,” Mia reported, counting off on her fingers.

“That’s not safe,” Chris said firmly.

Mia just settled him with a level glare. “I have super speed, invulnerability, and super strength. Not to mention if there’s danger -- uh, oh! Where’s Mia? Oh, right -- the freaking _air!!!”_

“I’m not comfortable with you going to the mall by yourself yet,” Chris sighed as he stepped into the jeans he abandoned the night before.

“Oh my gosh, you’re such a Clark Junior,” she groaned, though a flicker grew in her eyes. “But I _so_ would happy to invite you to come with!!! Jon _never_ goes with me to the mall. He’s so weird.”

“Mmhmm,” Chris responded, walking to the closet to grab a nice shirt. He paused and raised a brow at his sister. “I wonder, if following rules makes me a ‘Clark Junior’, what does your little rebellious streak say about you?”

The siblings barely let the moment pass before both laughing, “ _Lois Junior.”_

* * *

Chris felt like he was already swiftly approaching the eleventh hour of their shopping when Mia stepped out of the changing station in a tight black dress that came less than halfway down her thighs.

At first, he opened his mouth to say the first thing the thought of, then decided to go for a big breath and look down to his phone instead.

His brow furrowed slightly as he saw that he didn’t have a single text message from _any_ of the Titans.

Jerks.

Mia flicked his head so hard that Chris had no option but to shift his feet and sway. He then glared at her. “Don’t use super speed in the open,” he admonished. “And you’re lucky I’m used to superstrength flicks.”

“Pfft, from who?” she asked, punching into her own hand. “Do I need to beat them up?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighed.

“How’s my dress?”

“What do you mean?”

She gave him a frustrated pout of her lips before throwing up her hands. “How does it look on me, college boy?” she growled.

“It’s short,” he said truthfully. “Pa Clark won’t like it.”

Somehow, Mia managed to throw her entire body into her eye roll. “Of course he won’t! That’s the point!” she whined before walking over to the full length mirror. Her ferocity wavered some as she looked at her reflection, her knees slightly tucking inward as her hands twisted behind her back. A little softer, she clarified, “I meant, _how does it look on me?”_

Chris watched his sister poke at her tummy, pull at the neckline over her chest uncomfortably. “You always look beautiful,” he said plainly. “What kind of question’s that?”

“I think this dress is meant for curves,” she continued, obviously a bit lost in her thoughts as she glanced over herself. “I’m... I’m not the curviest person,” she said with a huff. “I’ll just find some other clothes.”

“Get the dress.”

Mia turned on her heels and tossed her head to the side, her hair bopping. “Huh?”

“Get the dress,” Chris said again enthusiastically. “It’s a great dress. It’s a great dress _on you_. I just don’t think you should let Pa Clark see it.”

A bit of natural blush came to Mia’s powdered cheeks and she ducked her head. “You’re such a dork.”

They didn’t take too long before heading to check out.

* * *

Normally their pattern in the mall was standard for a brother and sister.

They dallied between points of interest, mildly disagreed, found ice cream, walked aimlessly. There was always going to be an extra emphasis on Mia’s interests if for no other reason than as a blossoming twelve-year-old she was just interested in more things than Chris could ever pretend to be.

But Chris did have some interests.

If Jon had been with them he would have left them long ago for the bookstore, which would have made Chris’ eventual arrival and gravitation toward the comic racks more awkward.

Mia, usually, wouldn’t have come into the bookstore at all until she was ready to collect her siblings and leave the Metropolis Mall with her arms filled with bags and boxes. But it was only the two of them at the mall, and she followed with minor complaint.

While Chris rummaged through new releases, eyed the previous month’s leftovers, and generally fumbled his way through the store’s meager comic supply, Mia sat on the carpet, surrounded by bags and sipping a little carelessly on her smoothie.

“Why do you still read comic books?” she asked.

Normally these kinds of questions from Mia were more pointed and snarky. Chris actually had to look at her in a little bit of surprise at how genuine his sister sounded.

“Huh?”

“Why do you still read comic books?” she asked again, tossing her head, bopping her tussle of hair. “You’ve been having adventures way cooler and better than anything the newsrags carry for basically your whole life. You know more superheroes personally than exist in the comics. So why do you still read them?”

Chris smiled a little sadly to her and stood up, looking through the five picks in his hands.

“It’s hard to explain, Mia,” he said honestly. “You’ve had real life superheroes all your life -- since before you were born. And powers. You’ve always had the power to take care of yourself, to be strong.” Chris takes a breath, swallows down things he’d rather forget entirely. “I didn’t. I remember very well what it was like to need a superhero.” He looked to her, watched the watering of her bright eyes. “When you grow up needing a superhero to save you... you never really forget what it feels like. And you never really let that feeling go. Because you need it even when you don’t need them.”

Mia seemed a bit lost in his words for a moment, suddenly looking down and drawing her knees up to her chest again.

When she didn’t respond, Chris felt his own awkwardness hit him in the back of the head and lowered his face into the comic books. He sighed into the smell of fresh print and wondered if Mia was going to think of him as little as her twin did.

“I know what it’s like to need a hero,” she suddenly said.

A little surprised, Chris peered over his comics and was met by Mia’s piercing eyes. She was frowning, but fierce.

Moments like that always made her look _so much_ like Mama Lois.

“Trying to be who you are... but not who you were born as...” Mia railed off, looking down to her clothes and lightly pulling on them. “That’s not something that’s easy to do. Every day I wake up, see Jon, and think -- maybe that’s just who I should’ve let myself be. Even if it’s not who I am, maybe it would’ve just been easier if I was Jon. If I was...” she flinched at her own words, “ _Carter._ If I was anyone but Mia.” She looked at Chris, teary but determined. “So you’re wrong, Chris. I know what it’s like to need a hero. And I got them -- in you, and Mom, and Dad, and Jon, and Aunt Mae, and Kara -- all the people who have ever told me to be _Mia.”  
_

Chris felt sad and queasy -- honored and undeserved.

“So I guess I get it,” Mia said a little more firmly as she wiped her eyes with one swipe of her sleeve and pushed off the ground, gracefully trouncing over to the rack Chris stood at.

He watched as she leaned in and tilted her head. “So, what comics are good for empowering future Super Girls of the world?”

Smiling softly at his little sister, Chris leaned over with her. “They’ve been publishing this version of Wonder Woman for a while -- but it’s _really_ embellished, the author obviously doesn’t know that much about Aunt Di. It’s fun, though. She punched Medusa in the face last week and flew off on a kangaroo. If you want comics that aren’t based on anyone we know, you might like this one over here, it’s called _White Tiger._ I don’t now how much you’d like anything from Marvel, though.”

She just grinned and reached for it. “Won’t know ‘til I try!”

* * *

There was a wig and hat store that Chris had never even _heard_ of on the far end of the mall.

Upon reflection, with as many conventions as the Metropolis Convention Center held, and as many times as he had walked into a Starbucks only to be met by cosplayers of every caliber, it only made sense that such things would exist in their bustling city.

What made even more sense was that Mia was such a regular that they got greeted by name.

Chris raised a brow at his sister. “How often do you buy stuff here?”

Mia just smiled at him and brushed by, reaching for the first wig she saw. “Oh my gosh, look at all these blonde wigs. I bet that one over there is human hair. I can just _tell.”_

Humming in agreement, Chris followed his sister’s lead cautiously, ignoring how the two women behind the counter were whispering.

The one unfortunate part about being a Kent who didn’t quite _look_ like a Kent was the whispers when he was spending casual time with his family. The thought alone was enough to make him pull idly at his own brown locks.

“Chris!”

Looking to his sister, Chris blinked in surprise to see Mia transformed before him.

“You look just like Kara,” he said, a little baffled. “I had no idea the family resemblance was so strong.”

Mia grinned wickedly before going for the curly blonde wig and switching them out. “What about this? Who am I now!?”

Laughing, Chris clapped his hands on his knees. “You look just like Aunt Mae! That’s hilarious.” He was smacked in the face with the wig and old “hold it!” while Mia continued to stroll around the store.

Chris looked a little cautiously at the wig, felt the mesh net underneath, and then followed his sister with his eyes. She was very quickly sifting through the blonde wigs with only a moment’s hesitation on a long, black haired wig that was nearly her own hair’s mach.

Tossing his head slightly to the side, Chris stepped closer to Mia. “I thought you wanted your hair short,” he admitted. “I didn’t know you wanted to grow it out again.”

“I don’t,” Mia said quickly. “Short hair’s _way_ easier. I don’t know how you stand having it curl over your ears like yours does.”

Chris pouted, reaching up to his locks. “I like it...”

“Hm,” Mia responded, turning a sharp eye on her brother. “Then how do you stand being with that little richboy porcupine?”

“I don’t like Damian for his hair, Mia,” Chris pointed out before looking back to the counter. The whispering continued.

“You overlook a lot about him,” Mia sniffed. “Lots of things that most people wouldn’t be able to get over.”

He looked at her very seriously. “People like Mia Kent?”

“Absolutely.” She looked at him and pointed, even as her other hand swiftly put on yet another wig. “If you let me approve your dates, your life would be much easier! I have _way_ better tastes than you.”

“You’re twelve.”

“And you’ve not been checked up on by even _one_ of your friends since the fight,” Mia responded. “So I have better standards with friends, too.”

Chris glared. “How do you know about that?”

“Please, Chris. Who on the JLA 4-1-1 _doesn’t_ know that you and Robin got into a fight while saving the world from _Deathkonnn the Destroyer.”_

“Such a dumb name,” Chris said thoughtfully.

“SO dumb,” Mia agreed.

“Let me do me, and you do you, Mia, that’s the most solid advice in the world one can give,” Chris sighed before taking the wig off her head. “Except for buying things. I’ll do that for you if you get me pretzel bites at that stand I can smell outside.”

Mia grinned widely and added a hat to the pile. She strutted out, waving a hand as she laughed, “Sucker!”

He watched carefully as Mia left before dropping his more neutral look and heading straight to the counter, his real feelings showing clearly.

The women smiled largely at him as he approached, finally stopping their whispering. “Hello, Sir!”

“Yeah, hello,” Chris said very short, putting the wigs and hat on the counter. “I’d like these discounted.”

The woman stared at him, then at her friend, then back. She laughed, a bit baffled. “I’m sorry, Sir, but discount--”

“Yes, discounted,” he ground out. “It’s the least you can do for daring to question a possible customer’s gender _out loud_ in your store.”

They looked affronted by the accusation. “Sir, neither of us ever said anything about y--”

“No, but you called my sister a ‘dyke’ at least three times,” he said firmly, eyes bearing into them. “I’m a very soft spoken man, ma’am, but I assure you, I _can_ have a voice your manager will find worth speaking to.”

Almost immediately, the two women grew very quiet. His purchase went very quiet beyond that, but even if Chris couldn’t read minds he could see very clearly in the two’s glances to each other that they were trying very hard to figure out how their conversation was overheard.

It was a risk, but one worth making to stand up for what was right. It’d be the sort of thing Papa Clark would have done.

Well. Papa Clark would have probably been a lot more forward with his anger than Chris when it came to his children. But Chris was just content to get it all done with.

Only a few steps outside of the store he could see Mia and her bench of bags not far from the pretzel stand. Chris threw her newest bag into the mix, watched as she grinned and reached him his cup.

Chris eased himself onto the armrest and took a few bites, concentrating hard on the bottom of the cup.

“I was about nine when my super hearing came in,” he said softly.

“Darn, beat me,” Mia sighed, popping a bite into her mouth. “Eleven.”

Screwing his eyes closed tight was about all Chris could do to keep from tearing up in front of her. He’d _really_ hoped she hadn’t heard, that the feisty store act was more than just trying to drown out some of the world’s very real, very loud cruelty.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” Mia replied, fidgeting with the bag of wigs. “I’m used to it.”

Swallowing hard, Chris looked off, he wasn’t able to keep his tears back. But Mia wasn’t crying, so he had no right to cry over her. Still... she was his precious sister. She didn’t need to be _used_ to anything.

Mia’s hand curled over his and squeezed. Chris squeezed her’s right back.

* * *

At the end of the day, they had enough bags to line the ledge of the Daily Planet. A hilarious little project of theirs, lining the packages back to back to see if it’d actually work. (It was short. Way short. But they laughed anyway.)

Sitting on the very ring of Metropolis’ second most famous landmark, watching the sun fall, Chris felt a certain warmness.

His sister wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed as the sun set.

“Thank you, Chris,” she told him. “You’re the best.”


End file.
